Gray thinks God accept what Gray accept, Gray's too goddamn mentality.
A tragic accident.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
Humor masking a sadistic nature.
Eyes consumed by betrayal.
Mask on.
Manipulation, justified sacrifices.
Despite all, I let them live.
Because that’s what heroes do—we show mercy.
You’re bandits.
You’re the bad guys,
and I am the goddamn hero.
At the edge of the horizon,
That’s what you’re resisting.
Beauty, purity, order.
Mask slipping.
You’re a plague.
Your kind have corrupted this world—
greed and hatred.
I must save this world from your kind.
Now do me a favor, and die.
It’s not enough.
This disgusting planet,
these puppets.
I want it all.
Every planet, every star.
Call me old-fashioned,
What's a king to a god?
Mask off.
What's that saying?
Don’t pick a fight with a man who’s got nothing left to lose?
You're a savage.
You’re a maniac.
You’re a bandit,
and I am the goddamn hero.
His name is spoken, heard and seen
As part of every goddamn scene
Sweet be a cap on every bottle
It all goes on, without a throttle
A new banknote? Oh, there he is
The Arc of Trump? Well, soon be his
The Center for Performing Arts?
Rename attempt, sans playing parts
Half of White House's gone for good
Big void where once the building stood
Leave stains, not marks, is way to go
Our pride’s absorbing every blow
A golden phone, "Made in US"
Except it's not and what a mess
Cashed in our loyalty like a chip
When crypto fails, abandon ship!
He yells and screams and stomps his feet
So, heads of states are rife with grief
Hey, "pay attention to this matter"
Or chance become a worthless splatter
It's one step forward, two steps back
"Go make a deal or we attack"
The weak and meek don't win no war
Phone calls end war, he’ll stop few more
Vane jester of his own court
Amusing pledges, then abort
It hurts to watch, foresee effect
Entire world's pain in the neck
Forgiving History wouldn't be
No lion shall behave like flea
With vanity's his love affair
Except in bath, it's good nowhere
May 30, 2026
They said we're like two birds on a wire
Except one bird doesn't know how to fly
And the other just waits for a chance to get higher
And she says "it's you and me, not you against me"
What a goddamn liar
It's like being friends is a job
And I'm here because the notice said that theyre ready to hire
Though I try and try and try and try but it seems that I can't get any further
It's like I'm watching you drift away from me and yet you're right here, though you're deaf towards my plea
Almost like I'm chained to a chair and dreaming of a day when I truly will feel free
Free to look, to speak and not use my physique as a way to forespeak the state of our friendship.
I looked up to you but it seems that you've gone too far high
But I'll wait for you forever, if it means no goodbyes
And hence our friendship is like flowers fallen from a tree
Though they're on the ground, they're the prettiest thing you'll see
Hello honey
I’m here to tell you
Dad is drunk again
He lost his ‘bout
An hour ago and
by gawd
He’s an animal
In every sense
goddamn
Yet I want to assure you
He is ever so thankful
You got your heart to lend
With your beautiful existence :)
Cowards cloaked in ignorance.
See-through masks, your disease is showing.
Men don’t fear guns, they fear monsters.
You’re so unburdened.
Things like intelligence, culture, morality, honor.
I could go on, but I won’t, but I could.
If your mind can’t comprehend,
Your atrocity, disgrace, ignorance—
You can always put a bullet in it.
You’re a plague.
Your kind have corrupted this world—
greed and hatred.
It comes down to me—
to save this world from your kind.
You’re monsters,
and I,
am the goddamn hero.
The power you hold.. a man of many talents
The way you move just throws me off balance
There’s fire in my blood, a hunger in my veins
The way you look at me just drives me insane
There’s more room for love, no room for pain
I’ll drink to you now so pass the champagne
You’ve even got me here dancing in the rain
I think of you so much that it’s hurting my brain
Call the ambulance because I need a medic
This man is so holy and goddamn magnetic
To the angels above.. is this even ethical?
To make a man so perfectly symmetrical?
I want my hands to run all over your skin
I want your magnetic pull again and again
I wanna know every place that you’ve been
No more talking, let our souls speak from within
You can barely keep your eyes open.
Not from sleep, but from awe.
From the ache of wanting to take in everything at once.
The sky unraveling in soft peach and gold,
the hum of the tires still vibrating through your bones,
the sea so close you can feel the salt in your blood.
You want to see it—every grain, every wave, every goddamn shimmer of it.
But you also want to let it consume you.
You want to close your eyes just enough to become part of it,
to let the scent of honeysuckle and brine slip into your lungs
and settle in the parts of you still learning how to breathe.
Caught between the car and your dreams,
you hover there,
one hand on the door, one foot in another world.
And maybe you don’t need to move yet.
Maybe you’re allowed to just exist
in that sacred pause—
not running, not reaching,
just receiving.
Hello, calling Sergeant Stedenko,
Stedenko, we all just want to know!
Sarge, we just breezed the "Ghanja Boys" toke,
And then we seized the "Ghanja Boys" smoke!
Hell Sarge, we all found weed by the pound!
And, not one goddamn seed could be found!
It was sticky, stinky, funky, funk!
It was stinkin' funky from their trunk!
So, then we just gagged 'em and racked 'em,
After that, we tagged 'em and stacked 'em!
We need your okay just to proceed,
Meanwhile, we'll watch as those boys just bleed!
Or, we could opt or adopt your church,
And give those boys a cavity search!
If they pass anymore gas or grass,
Guess we'll just have to firebrand their ass!
What the Hell? So what do you say, Sarge?
Cuz...we know that "today" you're in charge!
But, we'd really get a big "charge" if...
We could just take a really big whiff!
the heat presses down like a drunk cop’s boot,
metal fences shiver in the sticky Florida sun,
concrete walls spit their old secrets at you,
black mildew crawls across everything,
like it's alive and goddamn winning.
men with broken teeth laugh in corners,
playing cards with cigarette ashes and dreams,
the guards walk slow, like they own death,
keys jangling like a bad symphony,
boots scuffing, breaking the silence open.
sweat pools in the cracks of your skin,
rats wiser than the wardens,
paint peels in long strips, like shedding snakes,
you hear screams, sometimes,
but mostly you hear the waiting.
somewhere far off, a dog barks—
but not for you, not for you.
they show up at 2:37 a.m.
not with pitchforks,
but with your mother’s voice,
your boss’s smirk,
the girl who left in '89.
they don’t knock.
they seep in through the cracks—
in the plaster,
in the bottle,
in your goddamn spine.
they light cigarettes
with your regrets,
spit beer on your dreams,
laugh like old men in a losing bar.
you feed them
every time you say yes
when you mean get the hell away.
they sit on your chest
like a mortgage,
like cancer,
like love.
and still—
you buy them a drink.
Is that ok to live with all the same conclusions
Or is it like worn clothes when you do not
Care what to wear in your goddamn seclusion
And like the old familiar recipies you’ve got
You see no change, its all the same old stories
Most likely, you can’t notice any changes
For otherwise it goes to different category
You leave no chance for any sudden rearrangements
But there's a vague unease brewing inside
You’re getting out of use, like old device
This might be called depression in most trite
Of understandings, but you never think it twice.
blushing cheeks
like roses or watermelons.
heart aflutter - it's silly,
to stutter -
stutter?
I hardly know 'er (ha)
stut
tering every word
all too aware of my gaze
and the magnetism you exert on it
damn it, I hardly know you
and you've got me writing poems.
you're ****in cool, anyway,
you goddamn instant crush
We're HARD. We're HUMAN. We're HARD.
Hard on ourselves, hard on each other.
Mirrored faces, reflecting
the same goddamn questions:
Who are you?
Who am I?
What's the point of this mess?
We chart the stars,
map the deep,
but can't find our damnway
out of this labyrinth of flesh and bone.
The self, a phantom,
a fleeting shadow
in the flickering candlelight of our minds.
We build walls of reason,
but stumble,
tripping over the invisible wires
of our own making.
Chaos!
Symphony of joy and pain,
a heart's erratic beat,
a soul's relentless rhythm,
the constant hum of being... human.
Don't look for answers in the books,
in the theories, the philosophies,
and the intellectual grandstanding.
The truth is right here,
pulsing in the messy,
complicated,
everyday life.
We ARE the mystery!
The key,
the universe,
the single soul,
the labyrinth,
the echo,
the shadow,
the heart,
the fire,
the question,
the answer...
...and we're just getting started.
The gun seems gun-shy in this space;
where deer hides hang on rustic walls
and granddad-tick-tocks beat, instead
of hearts in hollowed skins. The gun
a “trophy-bagger” in its rack,
a loud-mouth predator at rest,
this motherless, brother-less thug
perceives no pity-pangs... the gun
now quiet, buckshot empty, cold.
Above the stove’s phoenix soul hangs
an antlered head with prideful tines
the man, with bear-paw hands, had won.
A fox in freeze-frame-trot, a stiff
with cat glass eyes, attests his prize.
Indeed, like litterfall they fell,
unseen his haunt in hunter gear, his gun
a junkyard dog of steel. I say
they're beautiful in life. He says
they’re beautiful in death. Between
our words — a stand of pine — the shot!
that brought the shock of ammo air
that rib-cage-ripped and broke the breath,
that hurled the crows against the sky —
the blast that felled the 10-point buck that failed to sense your goddamn gun!
Yeah... blame the buck his reckless pose
and buckled throes. You felt the king!
Behind tight trees you sat with dawn
in sniper-silhouette. The gun
felt nothing; no remorse, no joy
—it, too, hangs upon the wall.
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